"Well, there's a wooden boat festival coming up this weekend in Port Townsend, maybe we could go over and see what they're doing in preparation for that."
When's the next ferry? 11:00. "I can be ready to go in five minutes." "Me, too."
Mad dash around the house and we're out the door. I forget my DSLR, but that's okay, at least I have the iPhone.
The ferry is just arriving, we get in line, wait for everybody to disembark. We don't know if we're going to make this boat. And then yes! We and the car ahead of us are next.
And that's when they load what looks like a 50-foot motorhome. A motorhome with a footprint that's about seven cars long. We've missed the boat.
Luckily we've lived here long enough to know to bring our Kindles for moments such as this. We have plenty to read. But we don't. We watch people, eavesdrop, talk, and before we know it the next boat (the Kennewick) has arrived and we're on our way.
Mid-channel, the ferry slows down because there's a pod of orcas off the port bow. How cool is that?
In Port Townsend we share a salad and tempura shrimp at Doc's, meander the marina, checking out the wooden boats, then to the boat chandlery, down a dock to the 1913 tall ship Adventuress. Beautiful.
Wandered around downtown, visited an art gallery, chatted with a couple who live in University Place (they called it "U.P."), then talked with an artist who makes beautiful wooden coat/hat racks. Time to head home. The ferry is just departing as we get in line. No worries. We sit and talk, relax, make the next boat and we're home.
This is just one tiny thing I love about living here. Jump up, miss the boat, make the boat, watch whales, look at boats, talk to people, look at art, walk, walk, walk, miss the boat, make the boat, home again.
Do we know how incredibly lucky we are? Yes. There are thousands of people trying to put their lives back together in Houston. There are thousands in Florida worrying about what the approaching hurricane is going to do to them. There are wildfires burning millions of acres of trees, historic buildings, impacting the loveliest areas of our country. And ash is falling seemingly everywhere, over everything.
This post is about sheer frivolity and sounds shallow in comparison. Luckily, I realize that. And give thanks to whoever is in charge that we had that wonderful day yesterday.
©Carol Leigh
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